


Harmony

by Too_Many_Seeds



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Breeding Kink, Bunker AU, F/M, Mild Daddy Kink, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 05:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16927272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Too_Many_Seeds/pseuds/Too_Many_Seeds
Summary: They’d been herded together; enemies to reluctant housemates. It was only inevitable in such tension that something was going to give.





	Harmony

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy <3

Rook had to wonder what deity was planning her life, that they would have put her on a course to find herself getting filled by the man she would have only recently sworn up and down was her enemy. 

When the bombs had dropped, he’d been tracking her through the mountains, and she’d been cursing her inability to kill him as she should have. Leaving him calmly sitting on the rock - injured but otherwise alive - was a mistake; she should have put a bullet through his head, should have fallen for his provocative taunts, but she didn’t. She’d just ripped off his bunker key and left him to crawl like a dog back to his master. 

And then she’d been regretting it as she’d tried to lose him through the mountains. Perhaps he would have caught her, strung her over his shoulder like the prize she was and carried her back to his bunker with him. But when the bombs had dropped and she had scurried like a rabbit to the only safety she knew was nearby, burrowing herself into the bunker she’d visited only once before and locking the hatch doors behind her, she’d remembered his words. 

“ _Now you’re alone. And you’re weak_.”   


Rook had unlocked the door. It hadn’t taken him long to scramble down with her, wrenching the hatches shut behind him and meeting her raised gun with his own; a standoff despite the fear flushing through her for the world burning above them. 

“Put that down, honey,” he’d told her, trying to wrest control of the upper hand. “Before you hurt yourself.”   


He was trying to appear unaffected but his eyes were wide-blown, and she saw a furious shaking at his wrist; this was the man who meticulously planned through everything yet here he was, thrown into the depths with _no_ plan and a cornered Deputy as his only companion. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

They’d stayed that way, frozen and aiming at the other until the crash of another bomb had made her jerk and glance up at the ceiling. Dust and debris had been falling from on high but the structure had stood firm, reinforced enough by the creator that they would be safe. 

Wordlessly, she’d set her gun down on a nearby table. Placated, he’d lowered his from her and turned to face the doors, locking them quickly before stepping back.

“Lot of cars out there,” he’d told her, dragging a chair over to sit in his vigilance. “Rabbits running. Might try and find a burrow.”   


She’d narrowed her eyes, realising his rifle wasn’t meant for her. 

“Then we should _let_ them.” The words had been hollow, and she’d known it. He had too, given that he didn’t even deign to reply. 

Nobody had come knocking, and the days had given way to a strange coexistence between them. It wasn’t amicable exactly, but it was still coexistence. The bunker was large enough that they could avoid each other; each claiming a separate room and only seeking the other out to have terse conversations about rations or the like. 

They’d had an argument once - something about establishing proper lights out, as though they were children - and as she’d stalked back to her room in a huff, she’d remembered that he held a horrible advantage over her. 

The next day, as he’d showered, she’d pilfered through his things and smashed the music box with a hammer until it was beyond any sort of possible repair. He’d appeared at the noise, and for the first time since she’d met him, she’d seen pure, unfiltered rage cross his face for the briefest of moments.

She'd wondered if he was going to hit her. He might have wondered it too, as he’d visibly flinched and took a few deep breaths, calming himself.

“Feel better?” He’d finally asked her, voice grating.  


“You didn’t seriously think I was going to let you pull this out whenever you got pissy?” She’d asked, rightly not even feeling a shred of guilt. She’d pushed past him in the doorway, heading to her room and calling back to him over her shoulder, “Not gonna be your little drone down here, hotshot.”   


He’d not spoken to her for well over a day but when he did, he hadn’t acknowledged the event. Thus, coexistence resumed. It was tense, it was the little glances they would give as they passed in the corridor; it was the avoidance of the other during meals; it was the unspoken delegation of turns at the radio, searching for their kin. 

But as the days passed, it became the way he brushed against her forearm as he retrieved the jam from the top shelf - after having found her poised precariously on a pile of books. It became their slow and quiet meetings during meal times; soft questions, inquiries about whether the other had heard anything over the frequencies. It became the way she could not rid herself of the frustrating blush after having walked in on him during his shower, her yelp of surprise being high-pitched and girly as she’d scurried away. 

Something was going to have to give. And give it did. 

Rook had found a pile of women’s clothes in one of the storage rooms, and she’d tried to ignore the memory of the two bodies she’d seen out front when she’d first visited this bunker. Wearing a dead woman’s clothes was not preferable, but she didn’t have much of a choice; her own uniform becoming tattered and what with her and Jacob’s gradually decreasing avoidance, she didn’t fancy sitting in front of him in her smalls while she waited for the washing to finish. 

It was as she had been peeling off her bra, jeans and shirt tossed to the side, that the door had opened.

Jacob hadn’t slept well, flashes of his brothers and fire running through his mind more than the usual suspects of his night terrors, and the thought of knocking had skipped him entirely. It was only when he’d seen Rook, bare and soft and looking like a fucking pin-up walking that he’d realised he should have. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” he hissed, immediately averting his eyes and stepping back into the hallway, pulling the door shut as she yelped in surprise.   


“Jacob, what the _fuck_?” She screeched, and he heard the sound of her shuffling to pull something over the top of her head. When she emerged, flushed and furious despite the too-loose floral dress she’d thrown on, he vaguely remembered that his brother had named her wrath. “How about you learn to fucking knock? What the hell do you want?”   


He winced at her high-pitched tone, anger nearly making her squeak in a way that he might have found amusing had his mind not been frustratingly replaying the sight of her in his head. 

“Didn’t mean to,” he muttered, actually averting his eyes for once. He pressed his fingers into his brow and scowled. “Just... _fuck_ , just forget it.”   


It was the closest to an apology she was going to get, she realised as he’d turned around promptly and left, leaving her gobsmacked at what had just happened. 

Mealtime was a silent and deadly awkward affair, the two of them toying with canned beans and avoiding the other’s eyes. He projected an air of aloofness, but he still refused to look at her. She wondered in a brief moment of arrogance, whether it was from disgust or something else. 

She found out that evening. It had been nagging at her, the sense of absolute regression to avoidance once more; a backtrack to how they’d been at the beginning. She didn’t want it, didn’t want this awkwardness. Like it or not, Jacob Seed was her only companion in this bunker for the next seven years and she would not be spending them in silence. 

Rook had wandered across the hallway, bare legs under her oversized shirt chilled from the bunker floor, and as she opened his door, she too learned the importance of knocking. 

He’d kicked the blanket off, and though he hadn’t been expecting an audience, he was still displaying himself shamelessly in the warm lamplight as though for one. She took an eyeful, and her tongue subconsciously flicked out to wet at her lips at the sight of him. 

“ _Fuck,”_ Jacob hissed under his breath, bucking up into his hand, vice-like around himself; imitating what he truly wanted in that instant.   


He’d been too absorbed when she’d opened the door, but there was a strange human instinct that he’d fine-tuned; that of sensing when one was being watched. His eyes flew open and he jerked at the sight of her, wide-eyed and staring at the doorway. 

He made a huff of surprise, and sat upright in a flash, reacting as a knee-jerk to  the presence of another but he made no moves to cover himself; shamelessly still bared and simply watching her.   


“What do you need, Deputy?” He asked simply, no disapproval or anger in his voice.   


Her mouth opened but nothing came out. She willed her eyes up to his face and was determined to keep them there and only there as they were both silent, the situation reminiscent of their original stand off when he had first met her at the bunker entrance; both of them with guns raised.

Only one person had a gun _raised_ in this instance. 

_You’ll catch flies if you keep your mouth gaping like a bloody fish,_ she hissed at herself and promptly pressed her lips shut, swallowing audibly in the silent room.

“I...I...” She stammered and trailed off, internally screaming at herself. She was a goddamn adult, she’d seen naked men before and this was a man who was supposed to be her fucking _enemy._ She could string a fucking sentence together!   


He raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Yes?” He prompted and she wondered if he was getting a thrill out of seeing the blush scatter across her cheeks.   


“I...” She began again, and winced at how thin her voice sounded. She cleared her throat and with a new resolve, stared at him with her head held high. “Would you like some help?” The words were comically formal, disjointed and awkward on her tongue, and she saw his mouth twitch in what might have been amusement.   


Rook waited as he left her in the suspense, giving her enough time to process what she’d just offered. The blush deepened and her heart raced loud enough for her to hear a pulse in her ears. She braced herself for the rejection and walk of shame back to her room, condemning them both to another few weeks at least of awkwardness. 

“Sure,” Jacob replied. “That’s what you want?” He leaned back against the bedhead, the pose making her eyes flicker back down. Catching her gaze, he spread his legs slightly and patted one of his thighs. “Come take a seat, honey.”   


There was a brief moment of hesitation, born of her sheer disbelief that he had actually _agreed_ and oh god, why _had_ he agreed? Was she dreaming? She was tempted to pinch herself to find out, but he interrupted her shock with a raised eyebrow; expression asking her what the delay was. 

She huffed out a laugh - still not sure if this was real - before she lowered her hands to the hem of her oversized shirt; a men’s long tee with some now-defunct brand name stitched across the chest. She pulled it upright, arms crossed as she bared herself to him once more, the soft swell of her breasts catching his eyes immediately.

“Oh?” He muttered, hand twitching visibly at his thigh again at the pin-up sight he’d had running through his mind now mere metres away from him. “That how it is, huh?”   


Her eyes were hooded and she wet her lips again as she took in the sight of him, unabashed in her gaze while she approached the edge of the bed in only her underwear. 

“Yeah,” she replied, not really focusing on words. “That’s how it is.”   


She crawled onto the bed, reaching out with a gentle hand to rest against his chest. The tufts of red hair scratched at her palm as she spread her fingers wide against him, using it as support as she swung her leg over his hip and raised herself to straddle him; sitting in his lap snugly looking for all intents and purposes like she belonged there.

And maybe she did. 

He placed his hands on her knees, keeping her eyes locked with his as he trailed upwards slowly, spreading his fingers wide to tease with a slightest touch at her inner thigh. She wriggled against him, pleased when his breath hitched as she brushed against him, nestled in front of her as he was. 

Her breath came heavier as his fingers teased at the elastic band of her underwear, fingers hooking inside and drawing them out just far enough for her to feel the brush of cool air on sensitive skin before he released the hold and the fabric snapped back into place. She jumped and squirmed impatiently in his grip, feeling a blink of annoyance at his amused chuckle. He traced around the hem, the pressure of his touch teasing through the fabric, before he tightened his grip and _pulled_ , making her eyes widen at the tearing sound of the flimsy material. 

“Jacob!” She hissed, scowling as he ripped them down the middle, baring her entirely for him. “I don’t exactly have a great supply of them going around, you know.”   


He hummed, almost managing to sound concerned had she not been able to see right through his smug self. 

“Guess it means you won’t be wearing them at all then,” Jacob replied, and she opened her mouth to scold him some more but the thought disappeared in a moment as he dipped his thumb between her folds. She gasped as he traced her entrance, and she might have been ashamed at the wetness his fingers found had she not been distracted. “Oh? This all for me, honey?” 

Something deep inside her tightened at his pet name for her. It was so simple and she’d heard it used before, though never had it made her warm as it did now. 

“Want you to fuck me,” she murmured, hands bracing herself against his chest, thumbs stroking against the calloused and scarred skin there. Her eyes snapped shut as one of his fingers found her clit, her legs twitching at the rough texture of his touch as he stroked her, making the itch burn between her thighs. She whimpered, trying to avoid rising to the edge and wanting this to last. “Fuck, no, I want you inside me, dammit.”   


He paused and stared up at her carefully, though she was still able to feel the pressure of his fingers stilled maddeningly between her folds.

“Don’t think I’ve seen any protection lying around,” Jacob admitted, expression unreadable but his eyes never leaving hers. “It’s gonna be raw, sweetheart.”   


She wondered if he felt the way her walls clenched at his words. Perhaps it should have embarrassed her, the needy way a new wave of wetness coated her at the thought of him bare, stretching her wide and every brush of him against her walls unhindered by any barrier. 

“Want it,” Rook mumbled, eyes dropping to his chest as she rocked her hips forward, trying to coax his fingers into moving again. “Want you to fill me up.”   


She swore she saw him twitch at that but there wasn’t much time for her to ponder it as he picked up the movement, one hand tracing the line of her nub while a single calloused finger slipped inside her. She clenched around him, testing how he felt as she rocked her hips up into his circling touch. 

He prepared her smoothly, stretching her wider with each finger to make her take him with ease. His touch on her clit was teasing, rousing her higher and higher but never enough to tip her over the edge; making her ride it instead, feel the haze of desperate neediness glow through her as he kept her flushed and whiny and utterly a _mess._

When he drew his fingers away from her, she should have flushed at how her own wetness clung to his skin, making him slick. Instead, she had the sudden desire to clean them for him, to taste herself while looking into his eyes, a thank you for the pleasure he was bringing her. But she didn’t get the chance as he brought his fingers downwards, using her wetness to coat himself and prepare to take her. 

“Up and at ‘em, sweetheart,” he said, one hand tapping lightly at her hip. “Come take what you need.”   


She leaned forward on his chest, shuffling her legs forward and glanced down, seeing him flushed and hard and so, so inviting for her. One hand kept him in position as she sank down, bouncing ever so slightly to help him slide inside easier. 

He wasn’t exactly small, and her mouth fell open in a silent gasp as she felt herself give way to him, welcome him inside and she stilled, breathing through the adjustment...taking it like a good girl. 

“Fuck,” Rook muttered, leaning back and bringing one hand to his base to trace where they were joined; fingers brushing against the coarse red hair that teased her skin when she moved.   


He wasn’t unaffected, hands tight against her waist; eager and anticipating the moment he could rock up into her. 

She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and began to gently grind back and forth, testing the waters and finding them pleasant. He was firm inside her, and she rocked back slightly, eyes closing to savour the feeling of him bare against her. 

He guided her, hands groping at whatever skin he could find while she found a rhythm and sank into it, jerking as she took him eagerly. He stretched her wide, giving her a pleasant stroke on her sensitive nerves with each rock of her hips, and she heard small groans coming from him, could _feel_ them reverberating in his chest underneath her hands. 

His eyes remained open, firmly watching her and drinking in the sight of her bouncing on his cock like it was the last thing he would ever see. His hand pulled back from her for a second before coming back sharply against her ass with a crack, making her yelp in shock and tighten around him as she rolled forward. 

She tilted her head down to meet his gaze, lips parted and breath heavy as she ground down against him insistently, wriggling her hips invitingly. 

“Again,” Rook hissed, leaning forward slightly as she worked herself up and down, fingers clenching into fists against his chest.   


“Yeah?” Jacob muttered, breath hoarser than usual. He gave her what she wanted, hand coming back for another slap against her ass and she arched into it, pushing back at him as he massaged the reddened skin soothingly. “Yeah, just like that, sweetheart. _Fuck.”_  


A few more hits had him twitching inside her, using his willpower to keep himself from tipping over the edge as she tightened around him and squirmed at the burning sting of her skin. Each hit had seen her give a sharp cry, and it would have worried him had he not seen the smile that tugged at her lips as she savoured the feeling. 

She felt his grip on her hip become tighter, his chipped nails digging into her skin so hard she imagined it would leave marks on her for hours. He had something like a grimace on his face and his eyes were no longer on her, but staring at her stomach. 

“You gonna cum?” Rook murmured, soft and breathy, one hand leaving his chest to grope at her breast. “Gonna cum inside me, daddy?” 

His eyes snapped up to hers, and she heard him give a strangled sort of groan as he flipped her over, making her yelp as she landed on the mattress facing up at him as he loomed over her. He barely wasted any time, sliding in as deep as he would go, pressing in as though he could still go deeper and it made her keen for him, arching upright and trying to push closer and closer to him. 

“Yeah, you want me to cum?” He asked, voice low as he kept her pinned down onto the mattress, pulling her leg over his hip as he rocked back and forth inside her. “You want me to cum, sweetheart?”   


“Yeah,” she breathed, staring up at him as each deep thrust made an airy gasp fall from her lips. “Yeah, I want you to cum.”  


“ _Where_?” He continued, though it wasn’t a question, they both knew the answer. “Need you to say it, honey.”   


Her arms wrapped around him and she pulled her face close to his neck, groans rising higher and higher in pitch as he threw her towards the edge with each rock of his hips. 

“ _Inside_ me,” she answered, the end trailing off into a whine as he picked up his pace.   


The sounds in the hollow bunker were obscene, the slapping of skin and the squelching of a horribly on edge Deputy. She whimpered and whined and arched her back, offering herself up to him and oh, he took her gladly. His hand left her hip, trailing down to her clit and circling her, making her jolt from the sudden shock of it. 

He traced rapid, jerking circles around her, trying as best he could in his own gradually rising state to time them with his thrusts and the added pleasure made her tilt her head back and give a high-pitched whine. Legs clasped around his waist and he pushed her closer and closer, admiring the way the quivering began to overtake her; her back stiffening as everything became tighter and tighter and _tighter._

 _“_ Cum inside me,” she whimpered, the words sounding breathless as she began to babble, each word pushing him rapidly towards his own edge. “Jake, please, cum inside, fill me up, _daddy please!”_  


He gave a strangled grunt, the sound loud in the silent walls, and felt himself jerk as he spilled inside her, giving her what she wanted and filling her with everything he had to give. 

It set her own release off, making her cry out as she shook around him; the waves of relief keeping her rocking against him, _around_ him as they pulsed through her.

Her head fell back against the pillow, walls twitching around him in aftershocks as they recovered. Jacob pulled away from her, lip quirking as she gave a soft whine when he slid from her and his release leaked out. He didn’t leave her without him for long however, as he tugged her to his side, pressing her against him and sighing at her warmth. 

She leaned into his touch and he wrapped his arm around her, keeping her there where he wanted her. Not that she would have moved away, too enticed by the heat, by the _safety_ she felt in his grasp. 

“You’re gonna have to wash the sheets,” Rook mumbled, feeling the haze of exhaustion drag her down. He hummed above her, a hand playing with a strand of her hair. “Otherwise it’ll be gross.”

“I’m sure we can dirty them a little more before that,” he replied, tone wry and she could feel the vibrations of his chuckle. “Got a few ideas, myself.”   


Her face scrunched up at the thought of dirty sheets, but she would admit that she found her interest _very_ much piqued at his words. Jacob Seed was the man of many plans and she didn’t doubt that she was going to be finding out how very creative and innovative he could be over the next seven years.

Their coexistence definitely seemed _much_ more amicable. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda makes me want to be in a bunker with the mountain daddy tbh.


End file.
